Staying strong
by bookwormgirlLH
Summary: Richie finds out that he's seriously ill - but how will he, and Eddie, cope when they don't know if he will recover?
1. Chapter 1

It all started with a cough, a chesty, persistent, but mild cough. Eddie didn't notice it at first, but after about a week of Richie constantly coughing, it began to get on his nerves. But he never thought it was anything serious; He was used to Richie doing irritating things to piss him off, and the cough was just another thing to add to the list, as far as Eddie was concerned. Two weeks after Richie developed his cough, though, Eddie had had enough, and yelled at his flat mate to shut up, despite Richie telling him he couldn't help it. He punched his flat mate in the face, which started a full blown fight, and after the argument, decided to leave it, hoping Richie would get bored and stop coughing.

But the cough continued, and Eddie noticed that Richie had lost his appetite, so he went up to him one evening, wondering what was going on.

"Why aren't you eating, Richie?" Eddie asked.

Richie coughed. "I'm not hungry." He said innocently, but there was a twinge of anxiety to his voice. Eddie didn't really believe him - Richie was fat for a reason - but he left it again, not wanting to pry into Richie's affairs.

But Richie continued to cough, the sound getting chestier by the day, and he soon found himself losing weight. He was usually ecstatic when this happened, but now he just felt scared. But it wasn't until he found himself out of breath by doing the slightest thing - such as climbing the stairs or carrying shopping - that Richie got really worried, for he had never been particularly fit, but now he could barely move without ending up breathless. Something in the back of his mind made him keep this information to himself, so he didn't tell Eddie about his declining state of health, and continued to worry on his own. He took painkillers, he drank cough medicine, he tried to relax, but nothing worked; the cough just got worse.

* * *

It was three months after he started coughing when Eddie realised something was wrong with Richie, for he was jerked from a drunken nap by a cry of,

"I'm coughing blood! I'm gonna die! Eddie! Help, please!" Richie came running into the living room, holding a tissue, a look of terror on his sweaty face. He thrust it towards Eddie, allowing him too see copious amounts of blood stained phlegm. Hyperventilating, Richie clutched at his tight chest, barely able to draw breath, eyes widening.

He was surprised to find Eddie holding his arm, and telling him to breathe slowly, "It's alright, Rich, just breathe." he said. When Richie's wheezy breathing had finally regulated, he found himself exhausted, and Eddie layed him down on the sofa. "What's wrong, Richie." Eddie asked, worried. He didn't really like Richie, but he was all Richie had, and, although he hated to admit it, he would miss Richie if anything happened to the bastard.

Richie coughed again. "I keep coughing, my chest hurts, I can't catch my breath, and I'm always tired and I keep losing weight and-" He heard his voice crack and he began to sob, so scared that he was going to die.

"Look, calm down you hysterical girl's blouse!" Eddie said firmly. "Just go to sleep - you look knackered - and I'll phone the doctors, ok." Richie smiled weakly, surprised by Eddie actually acting mature, and rolled over onto his side, drifting off after a few minutes.

Edie straightened up and phoned the local doctor's surgery. He explained the situation to the receptionist, and managed to get Richie an appointment in five hours time. Sitting down in the armchair, Eddie switched on the telly and passed the time watching Emmerdale Farm, but he found himself unable to concentrate, so when the time came to wake up Richie, he jumped at the chance to turn it off again.

Richie wasn't even irritable when Eddie woke him up; he just got his coat on in silence, before trudging out of the flat, which scared Eddie - Richie was usually really chatty. Richie was shattered by the time he reached the street outside the front door, and had to lean aginst the wall to recover. He raised his eyebrows as Eddie offered to help him walk, but accepted, for his legs felt ready to give way. They both headed to the bus stop, where a bus was, luckily for Richie, already waiting, and they clamoured on. Which was when they realised they had no money for the fare.

"I'm sorry, but I've got a-" Richie cut himself off with a hacking coughing fit. "- doctor's appointment."

The driver glared at him. "No money, no ride."

"You cu-" Eddie began, before a nervous voice spoke up behind him.

"I'll pay for them." Said a young woman. She looked very anxious, and could have been no older than about eighteen, but she smiled kindly at Richie, taking in how ill he looked.

The driver sighed, but as she handed over the money, gave Eddie two return tickets, before issuing the womn her own one.

After Eddie and Richie had sat down, both relieved to sit, the woman came to sit in front of them, turning around in her seat. This was when it hit Eddie that Richie may have been seriously ill, for he was sitting near a fairly attractive young woman, but he was making no attempt to flirt.

"Thanks for paying for us." Eddie said to her, and Richie nodded weakly in agreement.

"It's nothing." She smiled again. "My name's Lizzy, and I'm on placement at the hospital, but I'm going to the doctor's first to get another cannister of oxygen." Eddie noticed for the first time that she had tubes up her nose, and a wheeled trolley was resting on her lap.

"It's nice to meet you, Liz-" Richie started coughing again, clamping his hands over his mouth. Eddie rubbed his back, and Lizzy looked incredibly concerned, especially when he finally finished, for his lips where scarlet with blood.

To try and calm Richie down, Eddie diverted the conversation away from him, and said to Lizzy, "Why are you on placement?" he asked, not expecting her to be old enough to have a job.

"I'm training to be an oncologist." She said modestly, her very pale face flushing slightly. The medical jargon went straight over Richie and Eddie's heads. She saw this and explained that, "Oncologists are cancer specialists."

Richie had fallen asleep by this point, but the words hit Eddie hard; Lizzy looked worried when Richie coughed blood, and she knew all about cancer - Did Richie have it? He convinced himself that there was no way Richie could have cancer, but even so, despite the fact that she was very kind, Eddie hoped that they would never meet Lizzy again.


	2. Chapter 2

Richie couldn't help wrinkling his nose as he entered the waiting room, hating the smell of disinfectant that invaded his nostrils and irritated his lungs, which made him cough again. Heading over to the desk, he told the male receptionist - both he and Eddie looked disappointed - his name and sat down next to Eddie, already out of breath. He was so impatient; Richie just wanted to know what was wrong with him, but the time ticked round, and he realised that he was now five minutes late for the appointment. Jiggling his legs up and down in anticipation, Richie watched the clock, until Eddie elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"That is very annoying, Richie." Eddie said through gritted teeth, clearly trying to stay in control of his anger in front of so many people, as he really didn't want to get arrested for beating up Richie. This was what he told himself, but deep down, he found himself not wanting to hurt the bastard, and he wasn't sure why.

Richie huffed, turning away from Eddie, before jumping to his feet as the doctor opened his door and called "Mr Richard!" across the full room. He looked at Eddie, who gave him a push in the direction of the doctor, before following the GP into the room.

"Take a seat, Mr Richard." The doctor said, closing the door, and Richie did so, silently watching as he went to sit at his desk. "I'm Dr Roberts." He held out his hand, which Richie shook, allowing Dr Roberts to feel his rapid pulse rate. "There's no need to be anxious, Mr Richard." He attempted to be reassuring.

"Me, anxious? Hah! No way, mate." Richie cried, faking confidence, a cocky grin on his face - but the doctor could see his hands were trembling, and saw straight through his charade.

"Well," Dr Roberts continued, placing his fingers on his keyboard, ready to take notes. "Can you decide your symptoms? Your... friend?" he suggested.

"No!" Richie snapped firmly. "He's just my flat mate."

"Okay, your flat mate said you were really breathless and were coughing up bloody phlegm." Dr Roberts slightly hurried his words, trying to stop Richie interrupting him again. "Is that correct?"

Richie took as deep a breath as he could, and told Dr Roberts all about his cough, his loss of appetite and his breathlessness, which made him dizzy, not forgetting the blood he had coughed up, because it had really scared him. The whole time he was talking, Dr Roberts just typed, occasionally nodding or murmuring, but never speaking.

"I see." He said when Richie stopped talking, already suspecting the worst. "Do you smoke, Mr Richard?"

"No." Richie replied truthfully. " Eddie, my flat mate, does, but he's never home, so I don't actually see him smoking a lot." His voice had a bitter edge to it; he hated Eddie for always buggering off and leaving him home alone, for it was totally boring.

"Okay." Dr Roberts mumbled, typing again. He spun around in his chair, and grabbed a blood pressure cuff, which he fitted around Richie's arm - after persuading Richie to roll his sleeve up - discovering that Richie had rather high blood pressure. He then, knowing Richie was self-conscious, used a stethoscope over Richie's shirt, confirming his earlier suspicions that Richie's chest was congested. "Okay." He repeated, recording his results, whilst Richie looked so tense he was ready to vomit.

"What?" He asked cautiously.

"I'm a bit concerned about your lungs, Mr Richard, so I'm going to send you for a blood test to rule out a chest infection, and then a CT scan." He smiled reassuringly. When Richie told him that they didn't have a car, Dr Roberts told him the hospital was a five minute walk away, before shaking his hand again and letting Richie out into the waiting room.

Eddie got to his feet as Richie headed over, and he could tell something was up by the way Richie's face was very pale.

"Come on, Eddie, we need to go to the hospital." Richie mumbled, walking straight past Eddie and out of the doctor's surgery. He was terrified; he hated hospitals.

"Why?" Eddie asked when he caught up, following Richie in the direction of the hospital.

"I don't want to talk about it." Richie shook his head slightly, before coughing badly.

"Are you scared?" Eddie asked provocatively, winding Richie up, something he always loved to do.

"Oh SHUT UP!" Richie yelled, kicking Eddie in the balls. That was a mistake, for it started off another coughing fit, resulting in him bringing up more bloody phlegm.

By the time they reached they reached the hospital, Richie was being helped along my a rather reluctant Eddie, who told everyone who looked at him that, "He's only my flat mate." in a slightly aggressive voice. They trudged in through the main entrance and, as Dr Roberts had told Richie to got to the phlebotomy department, they flowed the confusing signs, and found themselves in another waiting room, where Richie took a ticket and they both sat down.

"Well this is fun, isn't it?" Eddie said sarcastically, glancing around the room full of rather pale people.

"Shut up, Eddie!" Richie hissed. "You might be bored, but I'm the one whose having all of these tests!" He snapped, moving to another seat. He didn't speak to Eddie for the whole hour they wasted in the waiting room, and when his number was called, Richie left Eddie alone in the now empty room.

The phlebotomist, also a man, told him to take a seat, before finding the message Dr Roberts had sent them, and reading the letter through. Explaining exactly what he was doing, the phlebotomist got Richie to roll up his sleeve again, before pricking his skin with a needle, and collecting a sample of blood. He taped a piece of cotton wool to Richie's bloody inner elbow, and said he was free to go.

"Is that it?" Richie said in disbelief, expecting it to take longer, but he was happy to leave the room, and went back into the waiting room. "We've got to go to the radiology department now, Eddie."

Eddie looked up, faking astonishment. "Wow, are you actually talking to me now?" He said with heavy sarcasm.

"Fine - I'm sorry, Eddie." Richie said, raising his eyebrows, but as he walked towards Eddie, his legs buckled and he lurched sideways into a chair, knocking it, and himself to the floor.

"I can't take you anywhere, can I?" Eddie moaned, but he pulled Richie to his feet, and helped his wobbly flat mate down two flights of stairs and along countless corridors before they reached the radiology department.

The CT scan was scaring Richie the most, but he soon realised what it was, and wasn't scared any more. After being made to remove his watch and put on ridiculous gown, he layed down on a bed, and watched the red lights circle his body. It was a bit weird, but didn't hurt at all, and was over surprisingly quickly. The radiologist told him that the results would be through in a few days, and Richie went back over to Eddie for the third, and thankfully final, time that day. But as they attempted to leave the department, Richie began to cough again, chest painfully tight, and found he couldn't breathe. Eddie stared at him, not knowing what to do, before running down the corridor and turning into the first ward he could find.

"My ... friend needs help!" He babbled, realising he had just called Richie his friend, to the nurse sat in a side office. Seeing how scared Eddie looked, she followed Eddie to where Richie was now doubled over, gasping for breath, his lips now displaying a blue tinge. The nurse took one arm, and Eddie the other, and they both hurried Richie down to A and E, where a doctor strapped an oxygen mask over his mouth.

Richie felt the oxygen flowing into his burning lungs, but, still, his vision blurred and he slipped into unconsciousness. But even as he fainted, Richie found himself shocked that the last thing he heard was Eddie telling him he was going to be alright, genuine concern in his voice, which was something he never though Eddie would ever do.


	3. Chapter 3

Richie was only unconscious for a half an hour but, although he didn't understand why, it seemed so much longer to Eddie. Everything just seemed to happen so quickly; one minute he and Richie had been walking through the hospital, feeling fine, but the next, they were in accident and emergency, Richie unable to breathe and promptly fainting.

Eddie, still holding Richie's arm, had helped haul his flat mate onto a bed, before being shoved out of the way so a doctor could strap an oxygen mask over his face. He wasn't sure how it happened, but, as Eddie had watched Richie, blue lipped, with wide, fearful eyes, struggle to draw breath, Eddie found himself reassuring the bastard: "You're going to be okay, Richie." he had said, repeatedly, until, only a few seconds later, Richie's eyes half closed, and he passed out. Eddie had soon gotten a grip, however, for he stepped out of the way as the nurses took Richie into a cubical, making sure to appear as calm, and as masculine as possible - the last thing he wanted was them all to mistake him and Richie for a couple, because they weren't!

They were still in the cubical, Richie on the bed, Eddie sat on the orange chair beside it, when Richie came round. As he slowly opened his heavy eyelids, Richie was shocked to find the bright lights and white washed ceiling fading in and out of focus, whilst his head seemed ready to explode. Whilst he could feel the oxygen pouring into his burning lungs, Richie knew it wasn't helping, for his lungs hurt so much he could barely move without the sensation his whole chest was going to cave in.

Knowing that Eddie couldn't be too far away, Richie turned his head, and saw his flat mate sat on the chair beside his bed.

"What happened?" Richie croaked, the oxygen making his throat painfully dry. His voice was muffled by the mask, but Eddie heard him.

"You fainted, Rich." Eddie replied without a hint of sympathy in his voice - but, then again, no sarcasm either.

Richie was about to attempt to speak again when a nurse entered the cubical. Eddie struggled not to laugh as Richie, who clearly couldn't see the nurse properly, heard their voice, and realised that they were male, because his face fell in an almost comical fashion.

"You must be Mr Richard," He said brightly, heading over to Richie.

"Yep." Richie replied, with no enthusiasm or cockiness in his voice. Eddie thought that Richie just seemed scared.

"So," The nurse looked at Richie's notes. "You're GP referred you to radiology because he's concerned about the state of your lungs?"

"Yep," Richie repeated.

"So you then found you couldn't breathe and fainted?"

Richie just nodded this time, sick of repeating himself. Every breath he took hurt, but he forced himself to inhale deeply, and tried to ask a question, "Am I going to die?"

The nurse sighed slightly, not knowing what to say. Of course, he had no idea what was really wrong with Richie, but his symptoms really didn't sound good.

Luckily for him, Eddie suddenly spoke, turning the conversation from the answer he didn't know himself.

"Are you crying, Richie?!" Eddie said in disbelief, watching a couple of tears escape from the corners of his eyes and down into his ears.

"Of course not!" Richie insisted defensively, wiping the tears away.

Feeling dizzy again, Richie tried to focus on his breathing, only half listening as the nurse asked him if he wanted to try taking the oxygen mask off. He nodded, wanting to get the sweaty plastic off of his face. The nurse carefully pulled the mask off, but the sudden lack of oxygen blurred Richie's vision. Fighting the urge to panic, Richie breathed as deeply as he could without inducing a coughing fit, but he defiantly was struggling without the oxygen.

Richie had just shifted himself into an upright position, immediately regretting it by the way his head swam, when a doctor entered the cubical too. He didn't look very cheerful, particularly when Richie began to cough violently, almost falling off the bed in the process. By the time Richie had finished, bloody saliva was trickling down his chin. Whilst the nurse gave Richie a tissue, the doctor looked at Eddie, watching Eddie look scared, but still not help Richie - he thought Eddie might just be Richie's friend, and may have been embarrassed to help him.

"Hello, Mr Richard." The doctor said, and Richie, looking up, realised it was Dr Roberts, the GP he met earlier today.

"Hello, Dr Roberts," Richie croaked, throat raw from coughing so much. "What are you doing here?"

Dr Roberts explained that he had been contacted by accident and emergency when Richie collapsed, and, had come up to the hospital to get his results as quickly as he could. He'd had to rush the radiologists, but they had interpreted Richie's scan results very quickly, because Richie, as Dr Roberts explained, was now a high priority patient. But what they found wasn't good at all.

Waiting for the nurse to give Richie the oxygen again - Richie's coughing episode had left him gasping for breath - Dr Roberts realised that he had to get it over with.

"I've got the results of the CT scan that was done on your chest, Mr Richard, and..." Dr Roberts trailed off, knowing Richie was going to take this badly.

Richie was too out of breath to speak, so Eddie demanded, "And what?" Dr Roberts could tell Eddie was worried about Richie, regardless of how much he tried to hide it.

"And, you have stage 2B lung cancer." Dr Roberts said slowly, "I'm s-"

"He can't have cancer!" Eddie yelled in disbelief. This was Richie, the bastard he had known for twenty five years - he couldn't have cancer.

Richie didn't speak for once; he was so quiet he could hear the blood drumming in his ears, as 'cancer' drummed around his aching head. It took a few seconds for it to sink in, and then,

"Oh SHIT! I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die!" Richie screamed, before he vomited violently into his oxygen mask, clogging it up so he now couldn't breathe. Gasping for breath, Richie yanked the mask off of his face, once again finding his lungs unresponsive. Chest tight, breathing rapidly, Richie fell straight off of the bed, slamming his head into the floor, and passed out again.

Hurriedly getting a new oxygen mask for Richie, the nurse slipped it over his head, whilst Eddie, still reeling from the news, asked Dr Roberts what Richie's chances were, never getting reassured regardless of how many times the doctor told him Richie's chance of dying was actually very slim.


End file.
